


Danny Still Hates Josef, Who Will Get Him Arrested One Day

by Carlough



Series: Christmas with Mick St. John and Turk Malloy [3]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Moonlight (TV), Ocean's (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Danny's Massive Hate-On, Drive-By Cameos of all your favorite characters, M/M, Oh the confusion, Writing about two people named Danny is a bad idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:52:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carlough/pseuds/Carlough
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The joint Christmas that nobody's been waiting for has finally come. Or, Danny fights with and/or hates on everybody. With love.</p><p>Also, Josef is probably out to get him.  He's just sayin'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Danny Still Hates Josef, Who Will Get Him Arrested One Day

**Author's Note:**

> Final part of the trilogy.

The first sign came in early November, when two envelopes appeared in the mailbox of one Lieutenant Commander Steven J. McGarrett, a mailbox he had recently begun to share with a certain Detective Daniel Williams.  One envelope was a smooth, rich shade of plum, made of some undoubtedly obnoxiously expensive cloth-paper hybrid.  The other was likely just as expensive and even more ostentatious, but that’s what you got when your paper products were rhinestone-studded paisley.

 

Both contained envelope-matching invitations to week-long holiday celebrations (or “extravaganzas,” depending on which invitation you were reading) and both failed to leave an RSVP date, hoping that this turned the invitation from a request to a summons.

 

The invitations were summarily ignored, which to the senders was as good as an emphatic “yes!” to their unasked question.

 

Then came the phone calls, each more unsubtle than the last.

 

“Hey, Mick,” Josef greeted in a low purr as soon as his friend answered his phone, “It’s only going to be your little Jersey Boy for your plus one, right?”

 

Steve rolled his eyes; Josef couldn’t see it, but he was sure the man knew he was doing it.  “First of all, he’s not actually from Jersey, you know that. Second, yes, Danny and I will be the only ones attending, _if_ we attend, seeing as Rachel has never let Danny have Grace for Christmas and plans to take her to England to see her parents, and God only knows if we asked Chin and Kono along you’d spill every secret we ever had to them and then try to turn them ‘as a favor.’  Third, Danny and I haven’t even decided whose Christmas we’re going to yet.”

 

The pout was audible.  “Mine, of course!  I throw the best Christmas parties!  His people got you two years ago.”

 

“And you got me last year.”

 

“Exactly!  And as you know, one taste just isn’t enough.”

 

“…You’re incorrigible.  I’m not even going to justify that with a response.”

 

“Your silence is all the response I need.  I’m putting you down for two.”

 

“I didn’t say yes!”

 

“You didn’t say no either!  Bye Mick!”

 

Steve grit his teeth at the dial tone and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly while counseling himself on all the reasons why he shouldn’t throw his phone against a wall.

 

The phone call Danny received was even more succinct.  It didn’t even include a greeting.

 

“Hey, you knuckleheads want steaks or fois gras for Christmas dinner?  Your brother’s still trying to push for a ham, but I told him that a pig as a main course would make my poor mother roll in her grave.  Then again, so would her nice little Jewish boy throwing a Christmas dinner.”

 

Danny tried not to pinch the bridge of his nose as he made an attempt to follow Reuben’s non-sequitur.  “I thought it was a non-denominational winter holiday extravaganza?”

 

“You remembered!  Good, good, I was hoping my invitations would be memorable, I designed them myself.  So, steaks or fois gras? Or ham if you want me to sin.”

 

“I don’t care.  Steve and I haven’t even decided-”

 

“You’re right, I’ll just tell the cooks to make them all and throw in some salmon for the pretend vegetarians.  Good thinking!”

 

“Wait, Reuben, you know that’s not-”

 

The dial tone buzzed merrily in his ear.

 

Apparently nobody had ever taught the filthy rich proper telephone etiquette.

 

The final sign was nothing.  Literally, nothing.  The phone calls stopped, the “hinting” emails ceased, nobody was inundating their mailboxes – nothing.  That level of radio silence as the holidays neared was unheard of.  Steve, for one, took it with relief.

 

“I doubt Josef’s given up, that’s not like him,” he said one evening as they sat on the couch, Danno curled comfortably under his arm.  “But he’s stopped bothering me, so I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

 

Danny snored inelegantly.  “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure that’s a gift horse, McGarrett.  Reuben’s quiet too. Reuben is _never_ quiet.  And besides, my asshole twin hasn’t called me even _once_ asking about where I’m going for the holidays.  They’re up to something, I know it.”

 

Steve smirked down at him and kissed the top of his head, just to make Danny’s nose scrunch up in displeasure.  “You’re being paranoid,” he murmured into the blond’s hair.

 

His partner was unmoved.  “You say that now, but just you wait.  They’re planning something, I know it.”

 

A few weeks later, Danny was proven right.  And it was much worse than anything they could have imagined.

 

A fine envelope of a garish plum-shaded paisley sat in McGarrett’s mailbox, addressed to both himself and Danny.  And the envelope wasn’t even the most horrifying part.

 

“A joint Christmas,” Steve mumbled, aneurysm face overtaking him.  “They’re having a _joint Christmas_.”

 

“Oh, that’s not all babe. It’s a joint ‘Holiday Fiesta Extravaganza’ – wow, guess who must have named that one – ‘hosted by the honorable Josef Kostan’ – what, is he supposed to be a judge now? – ‘and Reuben Tishkoff’ – surprised they didn’t give him any superlatives.  I was expecting a magnificent or glorious, at the least.”

 

“Nah, then he’d sound like a circus act,” Steve said, flopping down on the couch and rubbing a hand across his face.  He gestured at Danny. “Continue.”

 

“‘At the home of the latter, with planning by the former’ – well gosh, they sound like they love each other – ‘in an effort to create the most optimal holiday experience.’ That sounds almost painful.  ‘Your presence is required.’  Well, that settles it.  We’re spending Christmas in Calgary, they’ll never think to look for us there.”

 

“Wait a minute, now we’re fleeing the country?”

 

“Well, do you want to go to a Kostan-Tishkoff ‘extravaganza’? Because I don’t.  My friends and your vampire-friends-”

 

“Also known simply as ‘friends,’ Danny,” Steve interjected.

 

“It would be horrible.  So we’re going to Canada. White Christmas and all that, it’ll be great.”

 

“…They would track our flight records.  If we go north they could catch up more easily, intercept us at a layover.  We’ll go south to Chile, they have snow there.”

 

Danny nodded solemnly.  “Good thinking, I’ll pack our bags.”

 

But they didn’t go to Chile.  That was because a few days later, earlier than they had ever planned to depart for anywhere, they came downstairs to find Rusty Ryan rifling through their fridge, already finishing off the last of a leftover pizza.

 

“This,” he said, mouth full and completely unrepentant as he turned to face the duo (and Steve’s gun), “Is how you put pineapple on a pizza.” He made an appreciative noise as he finished swallowing.

 

Danny’s face was a moue of disgust.

 

“First of all, that’s disgusting.  Pineapple never belongs on pizza, no matter what super-SEAL here thinks.  Second, what the hell are you doing here?”

 

“Glad you have your priorities straight, Danno,” Steve muttered under his breath from his left.  Danny rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored him.

           

“I’m your escort!” Rusty tossed out glibly, continuing his inspection of their fridge.

 

Danny scoffed.  “Not my type, sorry.”

 

Now it was Rusty’s turn to roll his eyes.  “Sorry Turk, buddy, I like you but not that much.  I’m here to make sure you two get ‘safe passage’ to Vegas.”

 

“In other words, you’re here to make sure we don’t make a run for it,” Steve translated, arms crossed in front of his chest and wearing an expression that was dangerously close to entering brooding territory.

 

“Yeah, pretty much.  So, who’s ready for an extravaganza?”

 

It turned out that Danny and Steve were not, in fact, ready for an extravaganza.

 

It also turned out that Rusty really did not care.

 

This was how the pair found themselves hassled, prodded and herded onto a plane to Las Vegas with nothing but a call to Chin and Kono and a quick visit to say goodbye to Grace to precede their exit.

 

Their plans to make a run for it at the McCarren International Airport in Vegas, as formulated on the plane to said aforementioned airport, were ruined when, as soon as they disembarked, they were crowded by yet more of Danny’s friends, including his brother.  Steve couldn’t even make his snide remark to Danny that at least _his_ friends weren’t holding them hostage, because his lover was too busy arguing loudly and colorfully with his twin, attracting stares and causing scornful parents to cover their children’s ears.  Added that Basher and Linus were doing their best to chivvy the group along without anybody making a run for it (sans Rusty, because he had made a break for the nearest McDonald’s as soon as the plane landed), Steve couldn’t even get a word in to Danny, let alone complete their plans of escaping to South America.

 

At least Danny seemed to be enjoying himself.

 

“No, Virge, the kids are crying because your goddamn mustache is the stuff of nightmares!”

 

“Me?  What about you?  Who the hell greases their hair anymore?  What do you think this is, the Godfather?”

 

“I think this is my fist meeting your face, that’s what I think this is!”

 

“Make a guy think he didn’t even miss us, yeah?” Basher said from his right, nudging him in the side with a rather pointy elbow as the group approached a questionable-looking white utility van.

 

Steve gave him a thin smile.  “No, he missed you all plenty.  He just missed Virgil…enthusiastically.”

 

“I will gut you with a can opener-”

 

“I’d like to see you try, asswipe!”

 

“I’ll give you try, you-”

 

The shouting continued even as the brothers climbed into the back of the van, taking Danny and Steve’s luggage with them.  Their fighting then devolved into a cross between a wrestling match, a slapfight and a really long hug.

 

“Just remember, you’re pretty much marrying into that.”

 

Steve absolutely did not jump as Rusty suddenly appeared on the bench seat in the middle of the van next to him, because he knew he was coming, seriously, his super-SEAL senses were better than ever.  And he needed to stop thinking like Danny talked.

 

“Fry?” Rusty asked, holding out the large box as he took a bite from a Big Mac in his other hand.

 

The SEAL grimaced and shook his head as Linus started their drive to Reuben’s…well, mansion was putting it humbly.

 

“We’re not getting married,” he mumbled as an afterthought, absolutely not sounding like a petulant child.  He definitely did not have the urge to cross his arms and pout.

 

“Sure you’re not!” Rusty’s grin completely betrayed the fact that he thought Steve was a lying liar who lied, and wow, Steve _seriously_ needed to spend less time with Danny.  And Grace.  Because while he loved her to bits, Gracie talked like people from television, and Danny talked like Gracie and Steve couldn’t afford to keep talking like Danny without having his brooding vampire card revoked, and then that guy from that Angel show would beat him, and that just _could not_ be allowed to happen.

 

He was so much cooler than David Boreanaz.

 

The rest of the ride to Reuben’s was uneventful, depending on how skilled you were at blocking out a Malloy brothers reunion.

 

Steve could tell as soon as Reuben’s “home” came into view that Josef had most definitely had a say in the decorations; it was a cross between Reuben’s more… _eclectic_ style and Josef’s attempts to be minimalist and chic while also buying large amounts of the most expensive items he could find.  Which was why the mansion was covered in patches containing either a single, tiny wreath (likely made of the boughs of some endangered pine) or a giant garish flashing lights displays that seemed wont to induce a seizure in some poor passersby.

 

“Mick!” Josef cried as the van pulled up at the mansion’s entrance.  He remained in the shade of the building’s shadow, behaving as if he simply didn’t want to be seen near such a cheap and ugly looking van – which, admittedly, was probably at least half of his reasoning.  “Come here, you freakishly tanned bastard!”

 

The SEAL paused partway out of the van, looked at Josef, then down at his arm, and then back at Josef again.  “I think you’re losing it in your old age,” he said, even as he approached his friend with a smile and gave him a swift friendly-yet-very-masculine handshake and hug.

 

“Nah, you’ve been looking freakishly tan of late, babe!” Danny’s voice cried out from the back of the van, where he and his brother were still wrestle-hugging.  And after a moment: “Hi Josef!  I still hate you!”

 

Josef smiled charmingly and raised a hand.  “Still planning my demise, Danno?”

 

“I have a hatchet, a pickaxe and a milk jug full of holy water!”

 

“Always creative, that’s what I love about you!”

 

Steve rolled his eyes and steered his best friend back inside by a hand over the back of his neck.  “Yes, you both love each other very much.  It’s all very sweet.”

 

“Well you know Mick, I’m a very sweet person by nature.  That’s why I set all this up, for you!”

 

“For me.”  Somehow, Steve didn’t look like he quite believed Josef.  Maybe that’s because he really, really didn’t.  “You changed your plans for _me_.  You _never_ change your plans for anything.”

 

“Ah, that’s just it!  Any _thing_.  You, my dear Mick, are not a thing; you are a _person_ and I love you for it.”

 

Steve stared at him for a moment and blinked once, twice.

 

“You’re full of shit.”

 

Josef smiled disarmingly.  “Right you are!  Not that I don’t love you Mick, because I do, you’re fantastic and my best friend, but, you know, I’m stuck in my ways.  What can I say, you were right!  I’m _old_.  But I knew I had to get you to show up for my Christmas party somehow, because obviously any Christmas party I throw is superior to all others, and then I got to thinking.  Obviously the only thing better than one rich person is _two_ rich people, so what better than to team up with your boyfriend’s rich friend?  Genius, I know, no need to praise me – though really, go ahead.”

 

His friend scoffed.  “You’re even more full of shit than I thought,” he laughed, ignoring Josef’s overly hurt expression.  “You hate other rich people.  You’re afraid of the competition.”

 

The vampire gasped in mock-dismay and smacked his friend’s arm.  “I will have you know I simply think they’re all tacky, because they are.”  He pointed at a giant display of dancing Santas, all loud and undoubtedly expensive.  “Case in point.”

 

“That doesn’t count, Reuben’s taste is just…special.”

 

“That better be the only word you use to describe it.”  Danny suddenly appeared next to Steve, his hair mussed and his clothes a bit rumpled.  “He is our host, and a fantastic one at that.”

 

Steve and Josef stared at Danny for a long moment.  The shorter man simply smiled blandly and behaved as if he had no clue what they were looking at.

 

“You were fighting on the driveway, weren’t you,” Steve stated matter-of-factly, eyeing the state of his lover’s appearance.

 

Danny smiled around gritted teeth as he said, “That is neither here nor there, Steven.”

 

“There’s gravel in your hair,” Josef interjected loudly.  Danny’s brittle smile didn’t change.

 

“Thank you for that little piece of information, Josef.  I’ll cherish it always.”

 

“Well, you know, I live to-”

 

“Turk!  Get over here, you little idiot!”  Reuben’s voice called out cheerily.  Of course, Danny didn’t have to ‘get over’ anywhere because the next moment he was swept up into a tight, salmon pink and lime green-suited hug. 

 

“Hey, Reuben,” Danny murmured, voice quiet and a little choked given his position, but still warm nonetheless.  “You really let this guy come in and switch things up just for us?”

 

“Of course!”  The man leaned back, hands on Danny’s shoulders, and beamed down at him.  “We missed you two last year!  Drunken Twister just wasn’t the same.”

 

If they could have, Josef’s ears would have perked up.  “Excuse me, what was that?”

 

“That was nothing!” Steve stated loudly.  A flush was most certainly not making its way up his neck.

 

“Anyway,” Reuben continued, smiling kindly and gazing upon them fondly, “Contacting Josef here looking for a compromise – because I knew you guys would be torn about what to do, Virgil had already given us a long drunken speech about how your loyalties were being ‘twisted and mangled by the torture of love,’ and really your brother can be quite the maudlin drunk – anyway, getting in touch with Josef turned out to be good for me too!”

 

He slid a hand around Josef’s shoulder and dragged him in for a one-armed hug.  Josef blinked and appeared vaguely in pain but kept up a good front for Reuben’s sake.

 

“We have a surprise for you!”

 

“Oh my God, you’re having a baby!”  Danny shouted, a look of horror taking over his features.

 

Silence reigned for a long moment before Steve snorted and rolled his eyes.  “Obviously not, Danno.”

 

“Oh really, Lieutenant Commander I-run-at-5-in-the-morning-for-funsies?”

 

“Funsies?” Steve muttered to himself, the beginnings of aneurysm face already evident.

 

Danny continued blithely, “Then what do you think it is, hmmm?”

 

Steve took on a pedantic tone and said, “Well obviously they’re…” He paused for a moment in thought before saying in a slower voice, “…Getting together? …Maybe?”

 

The two men continued staring at the 5-0 members in silence.  Things began to get awkward.

 

“Buying a timeshare?”

 

“Becoming tennis partners?”

 

“Starting a rescue organization for abandoned pet tortoises?”  When everybody stared at Steve, he muttered under his breath, “What?  Josef likes tortoises.”

 

Josef dredged up a bland smile of his own.  “It’s true, but that’s not what we’re doing.  Reuben and I have decided to open a casino togeth-”

 

“NO!” Danny shouted, loud and protractedly.  “No!  You shut your fangy mouth now, you blood-sucking monster!  No!”

 

Reuben frowned a bit in hurt confusion, and placated slowly, “Now Turk, you know you can’t accuse everybody you don’t like of being a parasite, but-”

 

Danny spun to place his pointing finger towards Reuben now.

 

“No!  This is a horrible idea!  Do you not remember the Willy Bank debacle?  I am not a criminal anymore!  There will be no more heists, and no more casinos!  Team-up casinos have never worked out well, and that’s when the blood-sucking parasites were human!”

 

“I don’t really see how being an _in_ human blood-sucking parasite could be all that worse from a _human_ blood-sucking parasite,” Josef muttered; thankfully, Reuben, who was most definitely not in-the-know regarding any statuses of vampirism or former statuses thereof, wasn’t paying attention to him.

 

“I’m a grown man, Turk, I can make my own decisions about my own money, and I think Josef here is a trustworthy, respectable businessman, and there won’t need to be any criminal activities due to our business ventures.  I already told Danny that when he brought up the same point.  Except he, unlike you, seemed disappointed when I told him that.  I think we need to find that man a hobby…”

 

“Reuben, if you keep telling people that, they’re going to think I have a problem,” a new voice interjected.  Danny Ocean rounded the corner and smiled glibly at them all.  “Merry Christmas Steve, Turk.”  He shook hands with the former but was ignored by the latter, who was still pointing at Josef and twitching slightly.

 

“I think they broke him,” Rusty whispered loudly, appearing over Danny’s (the Ocean one, of course) shoulder and hovering there like a ghostly limpet.

 

“Nah, he’s just on a self-righteous kick,” Steve began, before Danno cut him a scathing glare.

 

“I’ll give you self-righteous,” he muttered angrily as he stalked past the group and into a room adjoining the hallway, from where the other Danny and had just come.

 

The group watched him go.

 

“Yup, that looked pretty self-righteous to me,” Rusty said with a nod, mouth suddenly full of a candy cane-shaped Christmas cookie.

 

Danny – the Ocean one – furrowed his brow in a look of mild confusion.

 

“…Did he just whisper to sharpen the stakes?”

* * *

 

When the group entered the room, which Steve recalled as the same lounge used for the main holiday “festivities” two years ago, there was already a bit of a party in progress.  He grinned when he saw Logan and Livingston talking animatedly yet awkwardly over a setup of computers that rivaled the Surface Table back at the 5-0 headquarters.  Guillermo was present, exchanging friendly jibes with Yen, both in their native languages and quite possibly not having a clue as to what the other was saying.

 

To his surprise, even Beth was there.  She smiled shyly when she saw him and waved before returning to a conversation she was having with Frank which was, of course, a comparison of nail care techniques.

 

Suddenly, Danno was looming at Steve’s side.

 

“He invited _her_ ,” he growled, eyes narrowed down to slits.  “I trust them both even less.”

 

Steve rolled his eyes fondly and kissed the top of his partner’s head, just to watch him bristle.  “We’re all just friends, you know that.”

 

“Oh, sure, just _friends_ , and then when I get arrested and/or killed because I have to go perform criminal activities thanks to something your fangy friend will undoubtedly cause with this new casino, she’ll just ever-so-kindly swoop in and snatch you away with ‘comfort’ and ‘sympathy.’”

 

“Yeah, you know, those things people do really have?” Steve replied with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Don’t worry,” Rusty interjected, suddenly appearing between the two with a plate of miniature hot dogs and God, he had to stop doing that, it was getting creepy.  And his eating habits had to be hell on his arteries.  “She’s not after McGarrett.  She’s been flirting with your brother pretty much since the two of them met.”

 

That did nothing to staunch the throbbing of a vein in Danny’s forehead.  If nothing, that only served to increase it.  Not to even mention how it ended up inciting yet another Malloy brothers “reunion.”

 

“You’re evil, you know that?”  Danny (the Ocean one) muttered to Rusty.  The other man only grinned.

 

“The entertainment value’s worth it.”

* * *

 

Eventually, Danny and Virgil stopped getting into fistfights (and Danny stopped glaring daggers at all of Steve’s friends) long enough that a proper dinner could be set up.  On the upside, the vampires did a surprisingly good job of appearing human (something the humans also did splendidly) and nobody tried to murder and/or exsanguinate anybody.  Steve chalked it up as a win.

 

Danny, however, still wasn’t so sure.

 

“This is fishy, I’m telling you right now, babe,” he said that night after dinner as he exited the shower of their room.

 

“That was supper,” Steve said blandly, not looking up from the newspaper he was perusing.

 

Danny rolled his eyes and wrapped a towel around his waist.

 

“I’m serious.  They’re up to something.  Your stupid fang-faced friend is never _not_ up to something.  He enjoys watching me suffer.  It gives him chills, I think.”

 

“Of course it does.”

 

“Don’t you placate me, I’m serious!  I am not returning to a life of crime thanks to your stupid friends, just so you and Beth can get back together!”

 

“Okay, first of all, Beth and I won’t be getting back together.  I love _you_ and am staying with _you_ and besides, she and Virgil really seem to have hit it off-”

 

“We are _not discussing that!_ ” Danny bit out from behind gritted teeth.  Steve rolled his eyes again and ignored him.

 

“ _And_ ,” he continued loudly, “You won’t have to return to a life of crime.  I would never allow it.”

 

Danny watched him with narrowed eyes and took a few steps closer.  “Really?”

 

Steve stood from his chair, put the paper aside and approached his partner, resting his hands on the shorter man’s towel-covered hips and giving him a slow half-smile.

 

“I promise,” he said quietly.  “I couldn’t have you getting arrested on me, now could I?  Five-0 would be a wreck without you.  You know I couldn’t last a day.”

 

“Well, I _am_ pretty irreplaceable.”

 

“Plus you’re the only one who understands the filing system.”

 

Danny now rolled his eyes.  “Oh McGarrett, you romantic.  Be still my beating heart.”

 

Steve gave him a cheesy grin.  “Well, you know, I always was at heart.”

 

His smile then became full-blown as he murmured softly, “Tradition,” and leaned in to kiss Danny.  When he finally released the blond, Danny saw what he meant when he caught sight of the sprig of greenery hanging from McGarrett’s hand.

 

Well, who cared if they had to supply their own mistletoe.  He was a stickler for tradition, after all.  Should probably work on helping McGarrett christen that mistletoe, then.  You know, for tradition’s sake.

 

* * *

 

Danny did end up having to return, however briefly, to his life of crime thanks to Josef, and on that day he got to gloat to Steve about the biggest of “I-told-you-so”s as the duo rappelled down the side of an elevator shaft.

 

But that story doesn’t involve Christmas, so we’ll save it for another day.  People aren’t interested in stuff like that anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know, that was a rather disappointing story, wasn't it. But don't you feel better for having finally figured out how the trilogy ends? No? Oh well. Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas anyway, everybody!


End file.
